Freeze Your Brain
by megangrace1994
Summary: While the movie Heathers is told through the perspective of Veronica and her narratives, this fan fiction is told through the perspective of Jason Dean.
1. Chapter 1

September 1st, 1989

The first impression I make of people is how would I kill them.

It's been an interesting first week at Westerberg High School in Sherwood, Ohio. The old man has had to move us across the country yet again – no big surprise. There's not much to say about the students at Westerberg High. They are bleak and vapid; they remind me of the ant farm I had in kindergarten. They obsess and create these pointless little forms. They think they're so complex but all one would need to do is give the farm a little shake. There's something fulfilling about watching the ants scatter while their tunnels all collapse around them, just like the students of Westerberg High.

There are a few cliques – nerds, stoners, everything one would expect – nothing too out of the ordinary. All the usual high school archetypes are there. Martha Dunstock seems to be the butt end of all the pranks and jokes here. Two ape-ish jocks named Ram Sweeney and Kurt Kelly are the male prototype of perfection – pretty low standards if you ask me. They stomp around the halls of the school like a couple of virgins dying to lose their virginity.

I keep imagining all the different ways I would kill them.

It keeps me entertained while I have to sit in these classes. The teachers are about as dumb as the students are.

The leading clique of this school is a group of superficial, carbon copy girls named the Heathers: Heather Duke, Heather McNamera, and Heather Chandler. No real threats to be honest – but I've planned out how I would kill each one of them too.

They have a fourth member, and she's the one who intrigues me the most.

She follows them around and follows orders like their slave. It's deprecating to watch. However, this young woman who I know nothing about, has me hooked. At some point I will have to open my mouth here and talk to someone, and I decided it would be her.

I wouldn't kill her.

So when the Heathers were taking their weekly, pointless lunchtime survey. I locked my eyes on her. When she first entered the cafeteria she spotted me. Observing her in the cafeteria was an experience. She was definitely not a Heather. She was a completely different breed.

The Heathers walked around the cafeteria with an air of ignorance and power. They have no idea that the real world will devour them in an instant. But how could they know that? To them, Westerberg _is_ the world. Their small mindedness would make them so easy to kill.

The non-Heather caught my eye again. She fought a smile in my direction. One of the Heathers pulled her aside – no doubt to spread some gossip. They were looking in my direction, so one can only assume the things they were saying.

The non-Heather made her way over to me, following my eyes that had been glued to her. I let a grin play on my face as she approached me.

"Hello, Jason Dean" she spoke with a smile.

I sat a little taller in my chair, "Greetings and salutations," I greeted her, "So, are you a Heather?"

"No," she responded with a chuckle, "I'm a Veronica… Sawyer"

Her smile filled the silence, "This might seem like a dumb question,"

"Ah, but there are no dumb questions," I corrected her with a grin.

"You inherit five million dollars the same day aliens land on the earth and say they're gonna blow it up in two days… What do you do?" she smirked.

I was stumped. I let out a breath and spoke, "That's the stupidest question I've ever heard,"

This time she laughed. What a great sound.

A comfortable silence fell over us as I looked at her face. What beauty, what charm… she was so much farther above these Westerberg low lifes.

I could've stayed in that silence for a little while longer, but the lead Heather walked up to steal her away, "Come on Veronica"

Veronica shot a smile in my direction, "Later," as she walked away.

Veronica.

I like it.


	2. Chapter 2

There's something I've always found comforting about a 7-11 and it may sound really lame but there's something about how every single 7-11 looks exactly the same that makes it feel like something has been consistent even though we've moved to 10 different cities in the past few years. There's always been a familiar place.

I guess my favorite part of 7-11 are the slushies. The way your whole body goes numb in pain when you slurp it too fast, it's addicting. Especially for me, when I can hardly go an hour without hearing the voices. The rush of a brain freeze silences them just long enough for me to breath. It's almost like a drug.

Friday night, I guess it's no surprise that I ended up at the 7-11. I did laps around the linoleum aisles, looking for anything of interest as I downed a cherry slushie.

I heard the beeping of the door as it swung open at the front of the store.

Veronica Sawyer.

She seemed in a bit of a rush as she snagged some corn nuts off one of the displays. I decided to take it upon myself to slow her down a bit.

I slunk up beside her, "You gonna pull a super chug with that?" I asked her.

A smile formed on her face when she saw it was me, "No, but if your nice I'll let you buy me a slushie" she turned to face me, "I see you know your convenience-speak pretty well"

I shrugged, "Yeah, well… I've been moved around all my life. Dallas, Baton Rouge, Vegas…," I raised my eyebrows in her direction, "Sherwood, Ohio… There's always been a Snappy Snack Shack, a 7-11. Any town, any time…" I grinned at her, "pop a ham-and-cheese in the microwave and feast on a turbo dog. Keeps me sane."

Veronica chuckled lightheartedly, "Really? That thing you pulled in the caf today was pretty severe"

* * *

><p>Almost immediately as Veronica had walked away, the two thuggish football Neanderthals walked over to where I was sitting.<p>

"You gonna eat that?" one of them sneered, sticking his hand in the caf food I had on my tray.

"What did your boyfriend say when you told him you were moving to Sherwood, Ohio?" the other chimed in.

Really?

"Answer him, dickhead!" the other one yelled.

"Hey, Ram, doesn't this school have a "no fags allowed rule"?" the one who must've been Kurt spoke.

Alright, let's play.

"Well they seem to have an open door policy for assholes, though," I made eye contact with them both.

They looked shocked that anyone had even thought of talking back to them.

"What did you say dickhead?" Kurt leaned farther over the table at me.

I let out a breath and rose to my feet.

"Ahh… I'll repeat myself,"

I pulled the gun full of blanks out of my jacket pocket and pointed it at my two predetors.

Boom.

* * *

><p>I smiled at Veronica, "Yeah, well… the extreme always seems to make an impression." I began walking over to the slushie machine, "Was that a cherry or a coke slushie?" I smirked in her direction.<p>

"Cherry," she smirked back.

After we'd both gotten our slushies we went back outside. I sat on the seat of my motorbike.

"Wow, sweet bike," Veronica spoke.

I shrugged and put my hand on the handle, "Yeah, just a humble perk from my Dad's construction company. You've seen the commercial, right? "Bringing every State to a higher state". "

Veronica nodded in realization, "Wait a minute. Jason Dean. Your pop's Big Bud Dean Construction? Must be rough moving place to place…" she said looking right at me.

I took a breath, "Well everyone's life's got static… is your life perfect?"

Veronica chuckled and rolled her eyes, "I'm on my way to a party… at Remmington University," she joked.

The car behind us honked loudly.

We both turned and saw an impatient Heather Chandler in the front seat, glaring daggers in Veronica's direction.

Veronica's smile faltered and her eyes fell to her slushie which she picked at with her straw, "No… my life's not perfect." She met my eyes once more, "I don't really like my friends…"

I nodded, "Yeah… I don't really like your friends either," I spoke plainly.

She shook her head and shrugged, "Well it's just like they're people I work with… and our job is being popular and shit," she let out a forced laugh before letting her eyes fall again.

I looked into her eyes, "Well, maybe it's time for a vacation,"

She looked back at me for a moment before the moment was cut by Heather Chandler's screeching voice coming from the car behind us, "VERONICA!"

Veronica sighed heavily, "I suppose I'll see you around, Jason Dean," she smirked at me.

"JD," I told her with a grin, "And yes, you will," I reached out and placed a kiss on her hand.

She turned a light shade of red and smiled at me before walking back to the car.

I had a feeling I'd see her again very soon.


	3. Chapter 3

That same night after I'd gone to bed, I heard something tapping on my window. I walked over and opened the window.

Veronica.

I smiled my best sleepy smile in her direction, "Well, greetings and salutations, m'dear"

Without so much as a reply Veronica climbing in through the window, shutting it behind her.

"Everything, uh, go alright tonight?" I asked. She looked a bit frazzled, her arms crossed in front of her chest.

"Heather's given me 30 hours to live," she spoke.

"So I guess that's a no…" I sat down on the edge of my bed and faced her.

"I don't know what came over me, I just… I told her what I really thought of her," Veronica spoke, paced back and forth a bit as she rubbed her palms on her dress.

I raised an eyebrow - very impressive, Veronica, "How did it feel?"

She turned and looked at me, "It felt amazing,"

I smirked at her, "Well then, what should we do to celebrate your newfound freedom from Heather Chandler?"

"Freedom? More like I'm a dead girl walking…" Veronica spoke, "Come Monday morning I'll be dead. They'll mount me on the wall,"

I rose to my feet and walked over to her, placing my hands on the back of her head, "Then it sounds like you deserve one last night of freedom," I whispered with a smirk at her.

She looked at me and gave me the look I was fishing for.

"Let's go to my place," she smirked back, "I have a croquet set," she walked back toward the window.

I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion, not exactly the reaction I was going for.

"I'll teach you how to play strip croquet," Veronica grinned.

There it was. I grinned and grabbed my jeans and my jacket, "I'll follow your lead then,"

She stopped short of the window and turned to me, as I almost walked right into her, "You know why don't you…" she spoke looking up into my eyes.

"Why…" I whispered.

"You're beautiful…" she spoke shaking her head, "There's nothing numb about you…" she touched my face and my hair and moved her hands to rest on my chest, "Let's make something beautiful…" her eyes were hungry.

I smirked, "That works for me,"

The croquet match lasted a grand total of 2 minutes. Her skin was so soft. I could feel the bumps forming on her skin as I ran my hands over it, every inch of her skin I could touch. I loved it all, the soft moans that escaped her mouth as I teased at her more sensitive areas with my hands and my mouth, the gasp she made when I finally pushed into her. Virgin.

Her nails dug deep into my skin and all it made me do was move faster and harder. She breathed heavier, "Holy shit…" she pulled on my hair.

I couldn't hold back the grunts and moans that finally escaped my lips as we both made it closer and closer to the edge. She went first, and she had to bite her lip to keep from screaming. I followed along right after she did. I let out my breath and looked down at her.

I moved a strand of her hair off her face, "Beautiful…" I whispered, placing a kiss on her lips. I laid down beside her and she curled up into me.

"That was a lot more interesting than just flinging off your clothes and boning away on a neighbor's swing set," Veronica chuckled.

I paused a moment, "I don't know, there's something to be said about- Ow!" I laughed as she bit me. She leaned in and kissed me again, "Mmm… what a night,"

"What a life. I almost moved into high school out of sixth grade because I was some genius. We all decided to chuck the idea because I'd have trouble making friends, blah-blah-blah…" she was obviously getting tired, her words were starting to slur together. I laid more gentle kisses on her neck as she continued talking, "Now blah-blah-blah is all I do. I use my grand I.Q. to figure out what gloss to wear and how to hit three keggers before curfew. Some genius…" she sighed.

I hummed into her skin, "Heather Chandler is one bitch that deserves to die…"

Veronica shook her head, "Killing her won't solve anything,"

I shrugged, "A well timed lightning bolt through her window and Monday morning, all the other Heathers – shit – everyone would be cast fucking adrift," I spoke in genuine seriousness, but I don't think she caught my drift, she was too tired.

"Well then I'll pray for rain," she chuckled.

I smiled at her, gently rubbing her soft skin as I kissed her head, "See those condoms in the grass over there? We killed tonight, Veronica. We killed our baby," I joked.

"Hey it was good for me too, Sparky," she turned red and cuddled into me.

"Just saying, it's not hard to end a life…"

"There's a big difference between the most popular girl in the school and dead sperm," she said sleepily.

I couldn't help laughing at that one. Veronica leaned up on her hands and pushed herself up so she was sitting.

I sat up too, "I guess I don't know what the hell I'm talking about," I shrugged, leaning on my knees, looking at her.

"I know exactly what the hell you're talking about and you're right, you don't know what the hell you're talking about," she laughed, "Mmm I say we just grow up, be adults, and die," she crawled closer to me meeting my lips.

"Good plan," I smiled into the kiss and pulled her on top of me. She let out a laugh.

"But first," she pulled away with an evil grin, "I'd like to see Heather Chandler puke her guts out…"

**Hi, author here, sorry I've been meaning to update for forever. I'm excited to do this fan fiction. It's going to be kind of a combination of both Heathers the original movie and Heathers the musical. I'm using the original movie script as a reference, and I'm adding in some deleted dialogue that didn't even make the final cut of the movie. So I'd say this fic is going to be part the movie, part the musical, and the third part is the original content - what's happening in JD's mind throughout the whole thing! I'm excited people are following and favoriting this story. Please let me know how I'm doing in the reviews! I'll update again soon! ~Meg**


	4. Chapter 4

Heather Chandler's house was exactly what you'd expect it to be. It looked like Mommy and Daddy lived quite nicely. There were window boxes outside every window and they had enough money to afford a television in every room, even in the kitchen. It was kinda gross to be honest, but that's what you'd expect.

Veronica grabbed the spare key out from it's spot under the garden gnome in the backyard and shoved open the back door into the kitchen.

"How do you know she's here?" I asked as we entered the homey looking kitchen. Everything was checkered. I half expected there to be an apple pie sitting on the counter.

"Trust me," Veronica spoke, "She skips the Saturday morning trip to Grandma's even when she's not hung over," she chuckled as she began opening cabinets in the kitchen.

"Then let's just concoct ourselves a little hang over cure that'll induce her to spew red, white and blue," I began opening cabinets myself.

"What about orange juice and milk," Veronica spoke into the fridge, "What's the upchuck factor on that?"

There it was. I smirked pulling out a familiar blue bottle. "I'm a no rust build up man, myself,"

"Don't be a dick, that'll kill her," Veronica laughed, when she met my eyes she looked a little uneasy. She jumped back into the fridge after a moment and began pulling out different things.

I knew that in the end I'd have her convinced so I grabbed a glass beer bottle and began a little science experiment, pouring not only the drain-o but also some scouring powder and detergent, and swirled it all together.

"Okay!" Veronica spoke excitedly, "We'll cook up a soup and pour it in a coke! Slick, eh?" she laughed, "Now should it be chicken noodle or bean with bacon?"

"Man, Veronica, pull the plug on that shit. I say we go with big blue here," I held up the glass.

Veronica stared at the glass. Obviously beginning to see it my way.

She shook her head out of it, "What are you doing? You can't just," she reached for the cup but I held it away from her.

"Besides, she'd never drink anything that looks like that," Veronica pointed to the bright blue liquid.

I looked through the cupboard and pulled down a ceramic mug, "Okay, then we'll put it in this, she won't know what she's drinking," I poured it into the mug.

Veronica rolled her eyes and grabbed the milk and orange juice out of the fridge, "Just give me the cup jerk,"

I feigned defeat and handed her another mug.

She made her own concoction, "Milk and orange juice… that'll do nicely," she smiled at her creation as she put the milk and juice back in the fridge.

"Chicken," I hissed at her with a smirk.

She kept her back to me, "You're not funny."

I shoved my hands in the pockets of my jacket and slunk away, leaning against the counter. Veronica turned to the mess of cleaning products I'd gotten out. She gathered them all up in her arms and dropped down to the sink to put them away. She stood up and leaned against the sink.

I walked up behind her, "I'm sorry," I spoke sheepishly. I reached out and moved her hair, placing a kiss on the back of her neck. I could practically feel her blush fill her whole face. She turned to face me, "Bonehead…" a playful grin on her face.

I leaned into her and kissed her. She laughed as she wrapped an arm around my head. She reached for the cup and clutched it as she began to walk away. I looked down at the counter and picked up the cup left over. It was a lumpy, milky yellow looking thing…

"Veronica," I spoke.

"What?" she called back.

I paused. She knew exactly what she was doing. She wanted Heather Chandler dead more than anyone, she just didn't know it yet. Once it was done she'd be happy. Who would I be to stand in the way of that?

"I'll carry the cup," I reached my hand out and followed her upstairs.

Of course, Heather had the biggest room in the house.

It was frilly and red. Heather.

"Morning, Heather," Veronica called, loud enough to cause Heather to stir in bed. She rose up, her curly blonde mane made her look like a lion. She looked at us through squinted eyes.

"Veronica…" her eyes found me, "And Jesse James… _Quelle surprise_…."

Her eyes stayed on me, "Hear about Veronica's affection for regurgitation?" Daggers in her voice.

Veronica spoke up, "Heather, we both said a lot of things we didn't mean last night-"

"Did we?" Heather cut her off. The silence felt heavy and I could see it weighing on Veronica…

"How the hell did you get in here?" Heather looked from Veronica to me.

Veronica'd suffered enough, "Veronica knew you'd have a hang over so I whipped this up for you… Family recipe," I smirked, extending the cup to Heather.

She scoffed and wrapped her blonde curls up in her red scrunchie, "Did you put a phlegm globber in that or something? I'm not drinking that piss," she narrowed her eyes at me.

I shrugged, "Veronica, I told you this stuff would be too intense for her,"

Wait for it…

"Intense? Grow up…" Heather replied, "You think I'll drink it just because you call me chicken?"

I turned back to her.

Yes.

She stumbled out of bed and over to me, "Just give me the cup, jerk," she snatched it from my hands. She threw her head back and downed all of it, like she was trying to prove something. Then the cup fell from her hand and her body lurched forward. She clutched her throat in agony, gasping and coughing.

Veronica's face was growing pale.

Heather gasped out a few words, "Corn… nuts…." She let out one final cough before falling forward, shattering the glass coffee table.

I fought back the look of satisfaction I so wanted to give her lifeless body.

_Veronica isn't yours anymore, Heather… she's mine._


End file.
